To Tear the Skies Apart
by njchrispatrick
Summary: When Thor left Jane on Earth he left her a parting gift. Many months later, a child is born; an impossible child. Unfortunately, a paranoid wizard spotted the child and decided that the boy would be the perfect weapon. Years later Loki attacks New York. However, he has a rather surprising ally...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It was killing me for a long time deciding whether or not I should publish this, but I finally just said 'screw it' and decided to put it up. I did take pleasure in the different premise. I didn't put a ton of time into this so expect at least a few errors.**

**I added about twelve years between Thor and The Avengers. I figured that Jane was about 20 or so in ****_Thor._**

* * *

Jane Foster walked into her lab in New Mexico, gaze drifting around aimlessly. Her feet steered her over to the nearest table, where Darcy and Erik sat eating breakfast, and she sat down in an empty chair. The two of them were staring at her and no doubt wondering what was wrong with the normally perky woman.

"Jane?" asked Erik. He frowned when he received no response from the astrophysicist. Something was wrong; she was normally so gung-ho and talkative. He reached a hand up to her face and snapped his fingers repeatedly. No response. "Jane, are you alright?"

Darcy took a more direct approach. When Jane continued to ignore them she stood, picked up her water bottle, and proceeded to dump the entire thing out on her friend's head. "Jane!" she yelled into her friend's ear.

Jane gasped as the cold water cascaded over her head and down her long brown hair. She turned away from where she had been gazing out the window to look at Darcy. "Darcy!" she shrieked as she shook her hair to get out the water. "What was that for?"

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "You were spacing out, Jane. Like…Thor-spacing out. More so than usual."

Jane turned to look at Erik and saw him nodding in agreement. "Jane, has something happened?" he asked softly.

Jane's mouth opened for a moment before closing. There was a pause before she swallowed and opened it again. "I…well you see…um…"

"Spit it out, I'm dying here!" cried Darcy, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

Jane took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant," she whispered.

Darcy's eyes got really wide, and she took a step back. "Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say that you are pregnant?"

Jane bit her bottom lip and nodded. "Yes…I just found out last night. Remember, I went to a doctor's appointment to see what has been going on with me? The morning sickness, the headaches, and the aching in my back. He told me that nothing was wrong, and that I should try a pregnancy test just in case."

"Jane…whose is it?" Erik asked with a pensive expression.

Jane looked up at him pleadingly, and his eyes widened in realization. "Yes," breathed Jane. "It's…Thor's."

Darcy's gasped dramatically. "Seriously!?" she shrieked. Then she paused and adopted a contemplative look. "How is that even possible? He's not human."

Erik was still staring at Jane in shock. "Jane," he hissed. "Don't you know what this means? Thor is the son of Odin, King of Asgard! I don't think that Odin will be happy that his son has an illegitimate child!"

Jane scowled and wrapped her arms around her midsection. "Well I don't give a damn what Odin thinks, and if he tries to harm my baby then I will kick his godly ass back to Asgard."

Erik opened his mouth to speak but he was interrupted by Darcy's loud squeal. "Oh my god!" she shrieked. "Don't you know what this means?" Seeing that neither of the two understood what she was talking about she sighed and face-palmed spectacularly. "Thor is, like, a god. You're a normal person. What do they call that again…? Oh, yea! Demigod kid!"

Erik turned to look at Jane again. "Jane," he began, acting as if Darcy had never spoken. "You don't know what will happen. We don't even know why Thor hasn't returned. Maybe he can't. What if the child is an Asgardian as well? It will live far, far longer than humans, and if Thor can't return then it will be alone. And can you raise an Asgardian baby? We don't know what kinds of things it may inherit from its father."

Jane shook her head stubbornly. "I know what you are saying Erik, and no. I will not give this baby up."

There was a tense silence until Darcy broke it. "So have you been thinking of baby names?"

Jane, thankful for the distraction, immediately entered a lively debate with Darcy about baby names. Erik just shook his head and sighed. Hopefully, it would all turn out for the best.

* * *

_11 Months Later_

Darcy winced as another piercing scream erupted from Jane's throat and her grip on Darcy's finger tightened nearly to the point of bone breakage. As slight as Jane may be, she was a very strong woman.

"So help me Thor," screamed Jane. "Norse God or not, I am going to kill you for doing this to me!" She screamed again as she pushed, and pushed once more.

Then she stopped pushing and screaming, because now the screaming one was the baby in the nurse's arms. "Congratulations Ms. Foster," she said cheerfully. "It's a boy!"

Jane gave the woman a tired grin as she took the baby into her arms. Cravings, sickness, mood swings, and an entire year of pregnancy (which they had to keep quiet about) that was no doubt due to his father, and it was finally over. As Jane looked down at the face of the little baby boy with a small sprout of golden blonde hair she smiled. 'It was worth it,' she thought.

The boy's eyes slowly blinked open, showing irises of a brilliant electric blue. His gaze slid around before stopping on Jane's eyes. He made a gurgling sound as he waved a little fist at her.

Darcy leaned over and cooed as she saw the baby. "He's so cute!" she cried. "And he looks like a little Thor, too. I bet that he will be really handsome when he grows up."

Jane grinned and nodded in agreement. He had Thor's blonde hair, Thor's brilliant blue eyes, and Thor's chin and jaw. However, he had her mouth, her ears, and the shape of his eyes was hers. No doubt in sixteen years or so he would have the masculine look of Thor coupled with her more delicate looks. "Yea," she agreed.

The door opened and Erik walked in. He and Jane had clashed a little bit over what to do about the baby, but they were fine now. Jane understood his concern and worry, and she knew that he was trying to keep her safe. However, she would not give up the baby. "Congratulations Jane," he greeted with a smile as he walked up to the bedside. "What are you going to name him?"

The boy wrapped his little fingers around her finger. "Leif," she declared.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her. "Leaf? Seriously?"

Erik shook his head at Darcy. "Not Leaf, Darcy. Leif. It is Scandinavian. It means 'heir' or 'descendant' I believe."

"Ooh." Darcy looked over at the baby who was now being nursed by Jane. "Is it because his daddy is a prince?"

Jane shrugged slightly, mindful of the baby. "I figured that he should have a name suited to Thor's culture, but that it shouldn't be too freaky either."

Darcy nodded sagely. "Makes sense."

Jane rolled her eyes at the intern. Darcy had such a completely bizarre personality.

* * *

Thor grinned happily as he downed a mug of ale. His mother watched on in bemusement as he suddenly let out a deep laugh.

"Whatever has gotten you so joyous, Thor?" she asked as he continued to grin like a loon. "Perhaps I should give some of it to your father."

Thor tried to smother his smile, but he was unsuccessful. He was just too _happy!_ Heimdall had told him about Jane being pregnant shortly after his return to Asgard, and it had been a flurry of mixed emotions for him. Firstly was panic; he had no idea how to be a father. Then came fear and worry, knowing that he would not be able to return to Midgard because of the Bifrost. Then came confusion; how could he have had a child with a mortal?

Asgardians and humans were incompatible. While it was true that they had a great many physical similarities and were able to be physically intimate, that was as far as it went. Yet, somehow, Jane had defied that logic.

Every night he went to Heimdall to ask the Gatekeeper what he saw on Midgard. While Heimdall was ordered to serve his king, he was able to bend the rules just enough to keep from telling Odin. Thor loved is father, and Odin loved him, but he worried that, for his own safety, Odin would force Thor to forget his child. Thor hadn't risked telling anyone, keeping the treasured secret safe from everyone.

Thor was so happy now because his child had finally been born. A son. Thor had a son! According to Heimdall the boy had inherited many of his features along with his mother's. Thor wished that he could have been there to see him. Jane had named the boy Leif. Thor liked the name. Leif Thorson.

Suddenly a guard stepped into the room where he was eating with his mother. "My prince," said the guard. "Heimdall wishes to speak with you. He claims that it is a matter of great urgency."

A foreboding feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, Thor hurried out the door.

* * *

Alastor Moody swiveled his magical eye to look through the wall of the muggle hospital and into the room that his target was staying in. It was about ten o' clock at night and the two occupants of the room, the mother and her baby, were asleep. The other two had gone home for the night and were planning on retrieving her in the morning.

Moody had been very sure to keep any of the other wizards from knowing about what he was doing. He knew that they would not approve of what he planned, even Dumbledore. Well, Dumbledore would not so much disapprove as he would not want to have to do it himself.

Moody had been scouting around America, looking for something—anything—that could help them. He had been entirely surprised when the pocket Core Detector that he had been carrying had gone off in the presence of a young woman. The Core Detector was made to help the Unspeakables find powerful wizards. The woman herself was, apparently, unmagical; however, the child that Moody could see inside of her possessed magic far stronger than any other's. It was so strong that the Core Detector broke from the force of it. So Moody had done some digging about the woman.

He had been extremely shocked to learn that the woman had known the mighty Thor. In fact, when he eavesdropped on several conversations she had he learned that she was in a romantic relationship with Thor and that she believed the child to be his.

Wizards knew of the stories of Asgard. Back in the days of the war between the Frost Giants and the Asgardians magic had begun to appear in mortals. It was believed that mortal magic began there, as a sort of side-effect from the Great War. Through the stories he knew of the magic of Asgard and its peoples. In Asgard possessing magic was exceptionally rare, nearly nonexistent. So the odds that this child, a child born of the god of storms, a child born of a mortal woman, would have magic were so infinitesimally small that it had to have been prophesized. This child would free them from the tyranny of Voldemort. Besides, it would be better for the boy in the end; his mortal mother could never understand him like the wizards could.

He cast a Silencing Charm and Disillusionment Charm over himself before stepping out of his hiding place in an empty office and making his way towards the door. After sending a glance around and judging that no one was near enough to see the door open by itself, he pulled the door open and stepped into the room. The lights were all out and the only source of illumination was the moonlight coming through the window, sending a silver glow over the bed and the small bassinet next to it.

Moody crept over to the bassinet next to the bed, not worrying about noise because of the Silencing Charm. He looked into it at the small sleeping blonde boy. 'Too easy,' thought Moody as he cast a simply Levitation Charm on the boy.

That was where everything went wrong.

The moment that the baby floated above the edge of the bassinet his bright blue eyes snapped open and he let out a shrieking cry. As if on cue his mother's eyes shot open as well and she sat up with a gasp, her eyes snapping right to Moody. When she saw him her eyes widened. "No!" she gasped.

Before she could move Moody had hit her with a basic spell to paralyze her for an hour.

"Leif!" she cried as she fought the spell's hold. "Let him go!"

He quickly cast a Stabilizing Charm over the baby to keep him from moving before turning back to her. "Obliviate Personum," he chanted. This was a higher-level memory charm that was meant to erase specific memories of one thing. What was special about this one was that it would spread to every person she came into contact with. He triggered it to replace her memories of a pregnancy and baby with memories of an accident that had put her in the hospital. It would move from her onto her friends and the muggle doctors.

He paused as another thought popped into his head. He had to make sure that there was absolutely no proof of this ever happening. He walked over to her bedside and pointed his wand at her abdomen. "Episkius Lacertus," he incanted. The spell would heal any internal injuries from her childbirth. After a moment's hesitation he cast another. This one would cause minor but unfixable damage to her uterus. She would never bear another child. Therefore the doctors would not be able to tell that she had previously given birth.

He walked over to the baby and, after concentrating heavily on the child and the stasis field, apparated away from the hospital.

The next morning Darcy and Erik came in to collect Jane from her treatment after the nasty accident she had when she slipped while ice-skating. Darcy had no clue why she was carrying a little yellow teddy bear.

* * *

_12 Years Later_

Harry grabbed a strand of hair on his head and pulled it out of his head. His eyes narrowed in confusion as the hair, like all the others, turned blonde the moment it was plucked from his head, before he could even catch a glimpse of it as black. What on Earth did that mean?

He sighed and tossed it away. Whatever was going on, it hopefully didn't mean anything bad. He had enough to deal with already what with everyone thinking him to be the Heir of Slytherin.

It was like the people didn't even know him! They all turned on him without any justifiable reason. Sure, he could speak Parseltongue, but when had he used it aside from the Dueling Club? And even then he had told the snake to stand down! But had they just used their eyes and realized that? No, of course not. The Wizarding World in general was quite blind.

Even his best friends didn't trust him. Sure, Ron had said that he stood by him, but for how long? Harry had seen the glances that the ginger kept shooting his way. He remembered their first train ride to Hogwarts. Ron thought that Slytherin was where all the Dark wizards came from. In hindsight that was rubbish; how could an eleven year old be evil? The House of the Brave, the House of the Intelligent, the House of the Hard-Working, and the House of Evil?

Hermione was a dear friend, and Harry knew that she often meant well, but she was being quite smothering. She had read through dozens of books looking for information on Parselmouths. According to every book, they were all evil. Hermione, as clever as she was, seemed to believe that all books held only the gospel truth. She trusted him of course, but it seemed like she believed that the ability would one day corrupt him.

His fascination with his hair had appeared when he saw Percy giving Ron a haircut in the common room. When Harry had seen that he had realized that he hadn't had a haircut since summer. In fact, in his lifetime he only remembered having ten or so haircuts. His aunt had said that it was just part of his 'freakishness' and he had believed her. But it was obviously not normal for a wizard's hair to not grow at all. Now he had this issue with the hair changing color. Just what was going on with him?

It seemed like his life would forever be riddled with strange inconsistencies. First there was that incident when he had visited Gringotts with Hagrid. Just why had the goblins been so shocked to see him? They had been bowing and scraping to him all throughout his visit. Hagrid had been quite shocked. Then there was the thing with the mountain troll. Neither Ron or Hermione had noticed it, but after the troll had gotten hit in the head with the club the club had gone flying at him and he had caught it. It had been like catching a stick for him, nothing like a heavy club should be. Finally, why did Hagrid's dragon cuddle up to him like a puppy? That was weirder than anything he had ever heard of. Luckily it seemed like there weren't any incidents this year.

He sighed and stood up from the table, feeling the eyes of half the Great Hall on him. He rolled his eyes as whispers sprang up; didn't these people have anything better to do? He walked from the hall, keeping his back straight so the anger and hurt wouldn't show.

* * *

Loki strode through the building, glancing from group to group. His eyes lit up slightly and he headed over towards the scientist Erik Selvig, who was setting up some of the advanced equipment that Loki had…acquired.

Loki leaned over the man's shoulder as he watched the human man run calculations on the laptop that Loki had given him. This human was almost unnervingly clever, and it was a nice change. Asgard was a warrior's society where muscles and strength were more important than magic and intelligence. Loki was a brilliant magic-user, but he was also quite thin and lithe, unlike Thor. Magic in Asgard was seen as woman's business. Loki could wipe out an army with magic yet he would be seen as weaker than Thor, who would choose to deck them with his bare hands and his hammer Mjolnir.

"Excellent work Dr. Selvig," he purred into the man's ear. "You are quite an intelligent human."

Selvig turned and smiled at him. "Thank you, you are too kind." His blank blue gaze met Loki's squarely.

Loki's smile morphed into a frown as he felt something in the man's gaze. With practiced ease he slid his mind into the mortal scientist's. His frown grew as he rooted through the man's mind and collided with a magical shield fencing off a part of his memories. After a moment of examination he realized that it was from mortal magic.

Certain mortals possessed magic a bit like in Asgard, albeit much weaker. The reason was the war between the Asgardians and the Frost Giants. The war was between two magical races and the backlash of magic had changed certain people, much like radiation, giving them their own latent abilities.

Nearly every person in the nearby town that hadn't died had found themselves with magic. They had interbred only with others in their town for fear of losing their magical gifts. It was a realistic worry; the ones that Loki had seen the last time that he was on Earth had been much weaker. Mortal magic-users would breed away their magic within a century or so.

He tore down the blocks without a moment of hesitation and rooted into the memories. It was a large amount of memories taking up a large portion of a year, all about a certain person…

Loki yanked himself out of the man's mind, sending Selvig staggering back. Loki, however, didn't notice; he was too busy wrapping his mind around what that meant.

A son. Thor had a son. Loki had a nephew! Well, not biologically, but still someone. He was someone who would not have a pre-ordained idea of Loki and extra hatred of him.

Loki smirked. Thor would come after him when he found out what Loki was doing, that was a given. Thor would come in an attempt to drag him back to Asgard and punish him. But if Loki had Thor's mysterious son as leverage then the god of thunder could not harm him for fear of Loki harming his son.

Even better was the fact that the boy—Leif—could be the perfect tool for destroying Thor. If the boy was Asgardian then he could fight Thor and Thor could not fight back. This boy was the key to helping Loki conquer the world.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked! I enjoyed making the bad guy someone ****_other_**** than Dumbles. And what will Thor do? He remembers his son but Jane doesn't. Uh-oh.**

**Like I said before, there is a time wiggle, but it can work.**

**I am sure that you are wondering why I sterilized Jane. Honestly? I hate sibling HP fics.**

**Sorry if you disliked my characterization of Erik. He just seems to dislike stirring the pot.**

**I don't know if/when I will get around to updating. I have a full plan for _What You Make of It_, but not this one so much.**

**Reviews please! I loves them much.**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance as a trio of Ravenclaws went scurrying down the hallway the moment that he turned the corner and appeared. What, did they think that he had Slytherin's monster in his back pocket or something? Imbeciles.

Seriously, the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing was ridiculous. Magicals lacked any common sense. First off, if he was the Heir then why would he broadcast his ability to speak Parseltongue? Why would he allow those who spread rumors about him to live? Heck, why would he even be in this school? Answer to all: he wouldn't.

Then Hermione had been petrified. Harry hadn't really cared when McGonagall took him to see her; the girl had ditched him, all because 'a book said so'. The Transfiguration teacher had seemed rather shocked when Harry had stared at the petrified girl dispassionately for a moment before shrugging and leaving the Infirmary. Ron had been trying to glare a hole in his head, probably blaming him either for the petrification or doing nothing to stop it. Moron.

Harry didn't know why he had ever made friends with Ron. Sure he had spoken to the boy on the train, but nothing more than that. It just seemed like Ron was always there, following Harry, so Harry ended up talking to him. In hindsight Ron was just being a creepy fan, like his sister.

Harry regretted many things about First Year, the main one being his Sorting. He had tried so hard to avoid Slytherin that he hadn't thought about possibilities. Now for Slytherin, no; like Gryffindor it was full of bias, prejudice, and idiotic belief. But Harry had never stopped to consider Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Now he wished that he had gone with Ravenclaw.

He was clever. He always had been, teaching himself to read, how to do basic arithmetic, and how to write his alphabet. When he had first started primary school his teacher had been astounded, recommending the Dursleys that he take tests to see if he could be bumped up a year or two.

As expected, the Dursleys refused. They had also proceeded to punish him for doing better than Dudley, denying him food and keeping him locked in the cupboard for three days. It hadn't been as bad as they thought it would be; he learned how to break out when he was six by using a paper clip to lift the latch of the lock. Still, the ideal was there.

However, he did not tone down his abilities. It made the Dursleys mad because he refused to listen, his teachers frustrated because he was so far ahead, and himself annoyed at the ease of the work, but he persevered. Eventually the Dursleys gave up trying to force him to fake stupidity and simply kept him in basic classes in an attempt to stunt his intelligence.

So Harry began to study in the library in his own free time. He didn't need to be back at the Dursleys until just before dinner so he could make dinner for when Vernon came home, and in his free time he began to read on other topics. He tried Astronomy, Computer Science, and Engineering. They were interesting but nothing piqued his interest until he tried Physics.

It fascinated him. Sure he had to look up two-thirds of the terms in the book, but aside from that it was the most interesting thing that he had ever read. Physics was all about discovery, and he loved it. He decided, then and there, that he would learn everything he could about it.

Those plans were derailed when he received the Hogwarts letter. Or rather letters. He still didn't understand why he had received so many. If someone failed to respond, why not just visit and enquire as to why instead of wasting all that parchment?

Learning that he was a wizard was both a positive and a negative. It was good because it made him realize that he was different, gifted, and special. However, it also ruined the plans that he had built for himself. He considered refusing the letter except for two things: 1) He was most likely too famous to be allowed to refuse, and 2) The Dursleys would gloat.

So he had tried to make the best of it, altering his plans to incorporate magic into it. Perhaps he could learn magic and _then_ go on to learn muggle science. However, Hogwarts was far beneath his expectations. It was old, lacked decent teachers, lacked advanced courses, and was full of narrow-minded fools.

His First Year was horrible. He was constantly stared at (a horrible thing for a normally isolated person), he was put on a pedestal, he was placed in a stereotype, and he was constantly compared to James and Lily Potter. Sure they were his parents, but a kid did not want to be a clone of his parents; he wanted to be his own person.

He still remembered how shocked McGonagall had been when he came up to her after the first Quidditch game and told her that he quit.

* * *

_"Q-Quit?" she sputtered. "You cannot just quit!"_

_"I just did," Harry replied, staring at her blankly. "I did not choose to be put on this team; you did. I only agreed because I enjoy flying."_

_"Then why are you quitting?" she asked in confusion. "If this is about the broom incident-"_

_"It's not that," Harry interrupted as he held up a hand. "It's the entire game. I like __**flying**__, not Quidditch. I thought that it would be a good excuse to fly, but it is not worth it. The sport is waste of time in my opinion. No physical benefits at all."_

_McGonagall sat back in shock. "Never in my life," she muttered . "Would I have expected the son of James Potter to renounce Quidditch."_

_Harry's brow ticked slightly in annoyance. "Just because I am his son does not mean that I am him, something that Professor Snape does not seem to grasp. Quidditch is stupid, so I quit." Without another word he turned and walked out._

* * *

The Gryffindors had been scandalized when they heard. Harry just shrugged at them all; did they expect him to care? He made his choices, not them.

Then there was that whole incident with Quirrel. Why did Ron and Hermione think that they, three untrained students who hadn't even hit puberty, would be able to stop Snape? Yet they dragged him off to the Third Floor Corridor, telling him that they needed to protect the stone. He was happy that he had the brains to be a king on the giant chessboard instead of the bishop that Ron wanted him to be. If he was going to play, he was going to be the one least likely to be hurt.

Getting placed in front of the mirror was a strange experience. Harry had seen it before, when he went exploring over Christmas Break, but he hadn't looked into the reflection. He knew that playing with emotions was the easiest way to gain control.

He had seen himself, but older. He was dressed in a suit and tie and holding a diploma in his hand. Behind him were the letters MIT, standing for the name of one of the most renowned schools in the world. It was his dream to go there. The older version of him was smirking triumphantly, and off to the side the Dursleys were getting led away by police. His dream was to succeed and cast them aside.

Killing Quirrel was also not part of his plans, but when the man came at him Harry had done the first spell that came to mind—_Diffindo_, the Cutting Curse. It was a Second Year spell, but he had learned it while reading ahead. The Cutting Curse had removed Quirrel's head from his body, though the man managed to hit Harry with a Stunner at the same time.

Dumbledore had insisted, in the infirmary after the whole scenario, that Harry had survived the Killing Curse because of 'love'. Harry wanted to call B.S. There was no way that his mother was the only mother who let herself die in place of her child, and there was no way that the most powerful Dark Lord to ever live could be killed by it.

"Ridiculous wizards and their bloody stupid thoughts about magic," Harry muttered, drawing himself out of his thoughts as he turned a corner. He was not expecting to collide headfirst with someone and go falling back onto his rear.

"Ow!" yelped Ron Weasley, staggering forward as Harry smacked into his back. In his moment of confusion a wand fell from his hand and rolled across the floor to the feet of the other person with him.

Harry stood up and brushed himself off as he watched Lockhart snatch the wand off the floor. Ron took his broken wand and aimed it at the incompetent teacher. "I think that I'm missing something here," said Harry slowly as he watched the two face off.

"This liar said that he was going to kill the monster in the Chamber of Secrets!" Ron cried, glancing at Harry. "He said that he was going to rescue my sister, but he lied!"

Harry raised one eyebrow. "Ginny is in trouble?"

"Where have you been!? She's in the Chamber!" Ron exclaimed.

"She's in the Chamber? How…unfortunate." It was most likely due to her own stupidity. The same stupidity that made Ron fly a car to school, while Harry had just waited for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to exit the platform and told them what happened. They had sent a letter to Professor McGonagall, who had apparated to get him and then apparated them back. Ron had gotten in loads of trouble.

Suddenly Ron's wand flew out of his hand and into Lockhart's. Harry cast another glance at the fraud of a teacher. There was a faintly mad gleam in his eyes as he glared at the two of them.

"Not one move boys," he ordered, pointing his own wand at Ron and Ron's at Harry.

"You had no intention of going after the monster, did you?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Lockhart didn't seem to notice that the answer was obvious. "Of course not. I was planning on waiting until the beast had stopped its attacks and then claiming credit for it."

"A Memory Charm?" Harry nodded. "Clever." Ron shot him a horrified look.

"Thank you Mr. Potter," said Lockhart. He glanced between the two of them. "Now I am afraid that you won't be leaving here with your memories. I'll be sure to tell the story. You two came upon me attacking the beast, and the sight of it consuming Ginny's mangled body was too much for you and you lost your minds."

"It would take a lot more than a mangled little girl to break me," Harry commented offhandedly.

"_Obliviate!_" Lockhart cried, both wands trained at the boys.

Not even Harry could have predicted what happened next.

From Lockhart's wand shot a bright white light. It smacked into Ron's face and the boy's expression cleared, his eyes turning vacant. However, Ron's wand—which was pointed at Harry—had a completely different effect.

From the breakage point the wand began to shoot off white sparks into the air. The entire shaft quivered as a sphere of white light began to build in the center. Suddenly the ball shot along the shaft of the wand, but towards Lockhart and not Harry.

Lockhart went slamming back into the wall under the force of the blast. The stream of light connecting his wand to Ron was abruptly cut off and the redhead slumped to the floor. Lockhart slid to the ground, his arms and legs limp and his head lolling to the side.

Harry watched the unconscious Defense teacher for a moment, making sure that the man was really unconscious, before he went to check on Ron. "Ron? Ron?" he asked, nudging the ginger with the tip of his shoe.

Ron looked up at him with bleary eyes. "Boo-ba," he gurgled before his head fell back onto the floor.

Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline as he looked from Ron to Lockhart and back. "Failed Memory Charm," he muttered to himself. "The spell was cut off halfway, causing a complete memory dump in the subject. Fascinating."

Suddenly he heard the tell-tale click of heels coming down the hallway around the corner. His lips curled into a smirk as an idea popped into his head. "Professor McGonagall, Professor McGonagall!" he cried as he ran around the corner.

She had her wand out, do doubt in surprise at his appearance. "What is it Mr. Potter?" she asked after a moment, lowering her wand.

"It's Ron and Professor Lockhart!" he cried dramatically. "Something's happened!"

* * *

Tom Riddle grinned triumphantly as he inspected his hands, reveling in the fact that he could actually _feel_ them. "It worked!" he cried aloud, laughing. Then he smirked. "But of course it did, _I_ planned for it to work. It is just unfortunate about the form…" He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he inspected the cheap hand-me-down robes that his host was wearing.

Pouring his soul into Ginny Weasley's body had been pathetically easy. He had carved out her soul and destroyed it, replacing it with his own. Now he had a real form, albeit the form of a whiny eleven-year-old girl. Luckily she was at least pureblood. He could alter the gender and looks later.

**_:Snake-speaker heir is gone.:_** hissed a voice from behind him. He turned to look at the Basilisk, which was sliding towards him.

**_:I am still here.:_** he hissed back.

**_:You are not heir. You do not smell like heir.:_**

Tom's, or rather Ginny's, face paled suddenly. He had forgotten that the snake would primarily seek out Slytherin blood, which he did not have. **_:Stand down!:_**

**_:So succulent. So tasty.:_** The snake ignored him, sliding closer. Its head began to raise and its mouth opened, fangs dripping poison.

That was the last thing that Tom Riddle saw before he, the body he was inhabiting, and his diary all vanished down the gullet of Salazar Slytherin's basilisk.

* * *

Harry watched as McGonagall let a sobbing Mrs. Weasley and stoic Mr. Weasley from the Headmaster's office. He felt rather bad for not doing anything to help Ron or Ginny, but it was not his job to save everyone.

It turned out that the broken wand had caused Lockhart's Memory Charm meant for Harry to snap back on him, wiping his memory clean. When the spell on Ron was cut off midway it messed up as well, wiping an unknown amount of his memories. Based on what Harry had seen Ron was back in an infant state. Ah, well, at least they could de-age him. Poor Ginny was lost.

A clearing of a throat brought Harry's attention back to Dumbledore. "It is a sad thing when one loses their child," he said, sad blue eyes watching Harry. "You never quite recover from it."

Harry didn't respond. He didn't like Dumbledore; the man was far too friendly to him and he played favorites. He rubbed Harry the wrong way.

"Do you know where the Chamber is?" Dumbledore asked suddenly, leaning forward. "Perhaps a little snake has told you?"

Harry could feel his annoyance levels rising. "If I knew where the damn Chamber was then I would be telling you so that you could go kill the damn monster," he snapped.

Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows pulled into a frown at the harsh retort. "Ah." He stared at Harry for a long moment before sighing and sitting back. "My boy, is there anything that you wish to tell me?"

Harry clenched his fists in anger at the form of address. "Nothing that you're entitled to," he answered in a deceptively cheerful voice. "Some things just aren't for your ears."

Harry had the pleasure of seeing Dumbledore well and truly shocked. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and a lemon drop rolled out of his mouth and landed in his beard, sticking. Harry wrinkled his nose up at it.

"May I leave now?" he asked, standing. The Headmaster just nodded weakly and Harry walked away from the desk, flung the door open, and headed out.

* * *

"You must go to Midgard, my son," said Odin to his eldest son. "Loki is there and he is using the Tesseract in an attempt to bring an army to conquer Midgard. I fear that Loki's mind is being influenced by a higher force."

Thor nodded at him, his face serious and emotionless.

Odin sighed inwardly. Thor had been like this since soon after his banishment to Midgard. At first Thor had been exuberant and happy, always willing to celebrate. But then he had undergone a radical shift, becoming cold, hard, and ever-serious. Odin no longer saw him partaking of feasts with the Warriors Three or sparring with Lady Sif as he used to. Instead Thor would spend long periods of time travelling Asgard, avoiding all his friends. Odin had tried to talk to him about it, as had Frigga, but he responded to neither.

It reminded him of when Thor and Loki's old caretaker, an old woman named Drega, had died. Thor had lost all traces of joy and happiness for many mortal months following it. Odin did not understand the cause of it this time; all of Thor's friends were alive and well, and even the mortal who he was infatuated with was still fine. Odin was so desperate to see his son get better that he was willing to bring the mortal woman to Asgard, if only the Bifrost was done being repaired.

"I will be sending you to Midgard through an energy portal," Odin continued. "However, I will be unable to recreate it. You must use the Tesseract to return with Loki."

"I understand, My King," said Thor, bowing his head.

Odin watched sadly as his son walked out of the throne room. He hoped that on Midgard his son could find a way to have his joy returned to him.

* * *

Loki watched from the shadows as his nephew sat down on the grass. He was holding a book in his hand, a book on one of the advanced subjects that Selvig was so good at.

When Loki had found his nephew he had expected the boy to be like a mini-Thor; brash, arrogant, dense, and ridiculously trusting. However, the boy was not like Thor, or even his mortal mother. He was far more like Loki, in both appearance and attitude.

Of course Loki was not fooled by the simple glamour. He was the master of illusions, after all. But seeing the thin boy sitting alone and isolated as he read made Loki think of his own childhood. Growing up in Thor's shadow had led Loki to isolate himself, learning magic from Frigga and reading books all day.

Learning that his nephew was naturally gifted in magic was both a surprise and not for Loki. With Frigga as his grandmother it was not a surprise, but it was ironic that _Thor's_ son would be magical. Thor, who did not think that magic was more than parlor tricks.

He almost felt guilty for what he planned to do to his nephew. In another life his nephew could have been a wonderful companion to Loki. He acted more like Loki's son than Thor's.

Loki made himself invisible as he stepped out of the shadows, gliding towards the boy. According to Selvig's memories the boy's name was Leif, but the boy thought his name to be Harry. Loki would ask him which he preferred.

As if sensing Loki's presence the boy looked up, scanning for any sign of an intruder. Loki took this opportunity to reach his spear and, more gently then he had for the others, touch it to the boy's chest. The boy gasped and stiffened as his eyes momentarily turned black before the blue film covered them. Loki snapped his fingers and the boy vanished, teleported to Loki's stronghold.

Loki then turned to the mortal dwelling where his nephew had stayed. These mortals were despicable; stupid, ugly, disgusting creatures that had no place in a decent society. He felt no guilt for what he was about to do.

A blue light shot from the end of the spear and into the side of the house. The light faded into the walls and, three seconds later, the results became known.

The house exploded violently in a massive fireball. The windows were all shattered by the force of the glass, the walls were obliterated, and the entire roof was launched into the air, where it was destroyed.

Loki smirked triumphantly as he vanished. One more group of useless mortals removed.

* * *

**A/N: Like I said, I don't really have an end-game for this story, unlike ****_What You Make of It _****(which I will be updating soon), and so chapters will come randomly.**

**Yes this Harry could be considered OOC. I made him take after his mother in brains, with a cynical edge that comes from his crappy childhood.**

**In the twelve years the Avengers is just older and Steve is recently revived.**

**I demand REVIEWS as payment for this chapter. Short, long, detailed, bland...I want them all!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Massive thanks to AnarchicMuse and Kefalion for beta-ing.**

**Also, in case you were confused at the end of the last chapter, Harry was at the Dursleys.**

* * *

Loki watched his nephew eating through narrowed eyes. The boy really was too thin, and based on how much he ate he was quite hungry. Loki felt like those mortals had more to answer for than he previously thought. He almost regretted killing them so soon. Almost.

He had brought the boy to at his base of operations, planning on going right along to Germany, but he had ended up staying a bit longer. Just long enough to learn a little bit about his newly-discovered nephew.

Loki could not help but notice the extreme similarities between them. He had taken a peek into the boy's mind and they were a lot alike. Both were adopted, both had a heritage unknown to them, both had families which favored their own children, both had a disguise hiding who they truly were, and both were constantly compared to their so-called 'family'.

Loki was a touch wary about breaking the disguise, for two reasons. The first was that he did not wish to constantly be around a miniature version of Thor. The second was that, since whoever had kidnapped Harry (as the boy wished to be called) obviously did not want the spell broken ever, the spell was woven throughout his entire body. Loki was easily powerful enough to break it, but breaking the spell would cause Loki to lose control on the boy. The only way to prevent _that_ was to completely control Harry, and he did like having someone to talk to.

Harry put down his fork, his plate now empty, and looked up at Loki. "So I'm not human?" he asked.

Loki sighed inwardly. It was rather hard for subjects under the Staff's spell to maintain thoughts or memories for a long time before they became… fuzzy. Harry was not as heavily entranced as the others, but he did still require clarification.

"Yes," repeated Loki. "Your father is an Asgardian god; Thor, God of Thunder." He didn't understand why Odin had given Thor that title. Thunder was just a lot of big noise, though in a way that did fit Thor.

The boy nodded seriously. "That makes sense. I always knew that I was different than the others around me; better."

Loki stifled a smirk. Thor would be shocked when he met his son and discovered how much like Loki he was. "You are half-god. I do not know how much of Thor's gifts you inherited, but I am sure that it was a fair few." Enhanced strength was obviously one. Thor would no doubt be happy about that, seeing as how Thor was known for being the strongest man in all of Asgard. Though Loki wondered how easy it was to maneuver with those massive muscles.

Harry seemed to struggle with a question for a moment. "What is Thor like?" he finally asked.

Loki frowned. He did not particularly want to talk about Thor. While he would admit that the man did care about him, they clashed far too much. "Thor is very arrogant and brash, and he does not often think before he does things. However… he does have his good traits," Loki admitted grudgingly. "He will defend those he cares about until his last breath, and he will always fight for what he believes in."

Harry's brows were drawn together in either thought or annoyance, Loki could not tell.

Any further conversation was interrupted when Barton came over and tapped Loki's shoulder. "Sir?" he asked. "We're ready to move out."

"Very good," said Loki. He stood and looked down at Harry. "I should return within a day or so, nephew. Farewell."

The boy nodded. "Okay. Bye… Loki."

* * *

Loki cocked his head to the side slightly in confusion as he looked at his adoptive brother through the thick glass of the mortal's cage. (Though really, they thought that _this_ would hold him? If he wished he could simply release the door with magic or teleport through it.) There was something… off about Thor. Thor had always been a happy man; even when he was serious, there was some part of him that would keep that buoyant side. However, the Thor that stood there, staring at Loki, was different; harsher, colder, less happy… more like Odin.

"Why have you come to visit me Thor?" he asked tiredly, all his patience expended. "Come to gloat about me being in a cage?"

Thor's face remained stoic. Strange, Loki had never thought that he could be so serious. It made him _really_ like his father. "I want you to give up on this pointless quest, brother, and return home."

Loki snorted derisively and waved a hand. "Yes, _you_ may want that, but no one else does, I assure you. I am sure that your little posse is glad to be rid of me."

Thor obviously did not understand the phrase 'posse' but he got the meaning. "We cannot lose a member of our family, Loki."

Loki screwed up his face in anger. "I am not your—"

"You are my brother!" Thor bellow, slamming his fist down on the metal bar lining the walkway and making it crumple as if it weighed nothing. The blonde man did not notice. "You may not be my blood, but that does not matter! Be you Aesir or Jotun I care not."

Loki straightened himself up and sneered at Thor. "Why did you really come, _Odinson_? To try to make me let it all go? To try to have us leave, go _home_?" He laughed harshly. "I have no home, Thor. Nowhere am I truly accepted."

The larger man just shook his head sadly. "You have a home, Loki. All you need to do is accept it."

Loki watched as his not-blood brother strode out of the room. He wondered, if Thor was sympathetic now, how he would be when Loki used his son against him as blackmail.

* * *

"Here we go Harry," said Loki, moving the boy in front of the large full-length mirror. He was back in the stronghold, preparing for the army to come through to Midgard. Loki needed Harry, and more importantly for Thor to realize just who Harry was, and so the disguise had to go.

Loki snapped his fingers over the boy's head, pouring all his magic into stripping the spell. He had discovered that it was harder to use his magic since getting the staff. While it was a useful tool, it was no substitute, so it would go once he had control of Midgard.

The effect was immediate. The boy's features seemed to become blurry and nondescript for a moment before they sharpened, morphing into his true face. As Loki had guessed, and taken from Selvig's memories, the boy took after his father a great deal.

While he didn't look _exactly_ like Thor, the God of Thunder's features were prominent. Harry's jaw and chin were all Thor, giving him his father's facial shape. His nose was not Thor's; if Loki wasn't mistaken, it looked like the mortal woman's. The same went for the shape of his eyes, though the blue irises were from his father. The ear-length, straight blonde hair was obviously from Thor, though Thor hadn't had such short hair since he was a very young boy. On Asgard all men had long hair and beards; when you lived for millennia you did not want to be shaving or having haircuts constantly, even if your hair grew more slowly. Another reason was that Asgard was a largely patriarchal society where all masculine traits were appreciated more, things like beards and muscles.

His build was clearly Thor's. Loki still remembered when Thor had been Harry's age. It was around the time that they first started fighting, over a millennium ago. Thor had been gifted at it, his sturdier built making him stronger than the thin Loki. Harry would obviously grow up to be at least as tall as Thor, with the man's broad shoulders and tough build.

Loki could feel his nephew's mind fighting against the spell, the emotions from seeing his true face making him stronger. He was shocked, amazed, bewildered, and horrified, much like how Loki was when he learned that he was a Jotun. Albeit, Harry had not grown up hearing stories about monsters and then learned that he was one.

Loki increased the power of the spell, drowning out Harry's—or _Leif's_—rebellious thoughts and smothering the boy's bright blue eyes in a sea of Tesseract-powered magic. For what he was about to do, he needed complete control over the child.

* * *

The Trickster God watched as the Man of Iron launched himself away from his tower, leaving Loki all alone. Loki knew that he did not have much time left; he would only be free until Thor came along, and that was when he pulled out his ace, as the mortals put it.

Loki reached out telepathically to Harry, checking to make sure that he was still docile. He was, and so Loki began to gather his magic for a short-range teleportation spell.

It was the perfect timing. Five minutes after, he heard the tell-tale sound of Thor's hammer, and the blonde man landed a few feet away from Loki with a loud _thump_. "Loki!" the man cried, a fierce expression on his face. "Turn off the Tesseract or I'll destroy it!"

Loki's lip curled into a smirk. "You wouldn't dare, _brother dearest_, not when I have leverage."

Thor's brows pulled together in confusion. Loki took that moment, summoning his leverage to him from the hidden location a half-mile away. It winded him but he did not show it, instead drawing Harry close to himself the moment that he appeared. He placed the bottom of the staff directly in front of the boy's shoulder. It was nonthreatening, but it was a clear message that the boy would not be going anywhere.

"Loki…" began Thor, raising his hammer. "Who is this boy? Whose child have you enslaved?"

Loki blinked his eyes in a display of innocent confusion. "Whose child?" He leaned over so Harry could see him. "He's asking whose child you are. Isn't that cute?" He straightened, sending a silent command to Harry that made the boy chuckle. "Thor, this is a rather nice boy who I met a few days ago. Thor, meet Leif. Leif Thorson, meet your father."

Thor paled drastically as he staggered back, Mjolnir slipping from his grasp and landing on the floor with a _clunk_. Thor, however, did not notice this, his eyes too fixed on his son. Loki could see him taking it all in—the hair, the face, the body—and realizing that the boy _was_ his son. "L-Leif?"

"Well, he goes by Harry now, actually," Loki corrected the man. "But sure, Leif. I found him living with a mortal family. Horrible people, they were. Apparently they despised him and made his life miserable." Thor looked as if he were about to be physically ill. "But don't worry, I killed them."

Thor's face hardened as he summoned the hammer to his hand. "Release him," he demanded, his already deep voice even darker and harsher. "If you harm one hair on his head—"

"You'll kill me? Sorry, but you can't do that without hurting him at the same time. Don't worry though; he will be safe as long as I am."

Thor froze and seemed to whither, placing the hammer back down on the floor as he submitted to Loki's wishes. "He… he is my son?" he asked after a moment.

Loki found it incredible that the man could ignore the chaos all around him, all for the sake of his son. "Without a doubt. I understand that he was kidnapped, yes?" The pained expression was Thor's answer. "I find it curious, because he was kidnapped by mortal magicals."

Thor's head snapped up and his eyes widened. "Magical… mortals?"

They both knew that they existed, from the stories that their mother had told them. Also because both Thor and Loki had visited the first magical humans, impressing them with their powers.

"Yes. They took him because, like me, he is naturally gifted in magic. They wiped your dear mortal's memory so that she would not search for him." He smiled nastily at Thor. "Are you still so eager to condemn its use when your own son is proficient in it?"

"I do not condemn your use of magic, Loki. I was wrong to judge it as petty tricks and worthless spells."

Loki sneered as he tightened his hold on his nephew, making the boy wince. This proved to be his undoing as Thor's eyes flashed in anger and Loki suddenly felt a painful jolt of electricity shoot up his arm. Centuries of close contact with Mjolnir had given Thor a few latent abilities even when he was not touching the hammer. Loki instinctively yanked his arm away from the child and staggered back a half-step under the force of the jolt.

The moment that Loki was away his son Thor summoned his hammer and sent it flying at Loki. The weighty object crashed into his chest, propelling him over the edge of the tower and down towards the street below. Luckily for him, one of the robotic soldiers was flying by and caught him.

Thor rushed over and grabbed the boy as he swayed on his feet. Thor could see the blue film covering his eyes lessen slightly, showing eyes that were the same color as Thor's own. "Huh?" the boy muttered as he blinked up at Thor blearily. "Who're you?" he slurred.

Thor ignored the painful feeling that the question caused in his heart. His own son did not know who he was. And this was his son, certainly; he could feel it when he touched the boy. All Asgardians possessed minor aura-sensing abilities; not very powerful ones, but if they touched another Aesir they could get a vague sensory impression, if they concentrated. Thor could see the way that the boy's aura was; it connected with Thor's in the same way that his own connected to his father's. This was Leif, his son.

The full force of it hitting him, Thor felt tears gather in his eyes as he pulled his son into a tight hug. Not too tight of course; Thor might crush the boy in his massive arms.

He quickly wiped the tears from his face as he saw the monsters continue to ravage the city around them. While he wanted nothing more than to hold his son and never let him go, the best way that he could keep Leif safe would be to stop the monsters attacking the city.

"Wait here," he told the boy, his voice cracking slightly. "Hide in the Man of Iron's home so that no one will see you. I will return for you shortly."

He wasn't sure how much got through to Leif with Loki's spell on him, but the boy nodded and walked into the building. Thor watched him until he was out of sight, hopefully hidden in one of the rooms, before he twirled his hammer and launched himself into the air, intent on stopping Loki's reign of terror.

* * *

Harry groaned as he felt himself wake up, his head pounding. He sat up abruptly and instantly regretted it as a surge of dizziness washed through his head. He pushed past it as he struggled to his feet, using the wall as support.

Then the full force of what happened hit him. He remembered Loki taking him from the Dursleys, being put under mind control, staying in the stronghold, having the glamour removed, and then… nothing. Tugging one of his longer bang hairs down so in front of his face so that he could see the tip of it, confirmed that his appearance had indeed changed. Curious. He wondered if other biological processes had been affected as well.

He walked down the hallway a bit and reached what looked like a massive living room, which was completely torn apart. There was a group of strange-looking individuals standing in the middle, crowding someone who was lying on the floor.

"Leif!" called a deep voice. That was the only warning that Harry got before he was suddenly grabbed by someone and pulled into an uncomfortably tight hug, the man's rock-hard biceps holding him in place like prison bars.

"Agh!" Harry gasped, waving his arms around frantically. "Air, air!" he gasped. As quickly as it had appeared the powerful grip vanished, and Harry collapsed to his feet, barely able to stay upright. He took a few deep breaths and coughed before he looked to see who had been holding him. It was an extremely tall blonde man, with long hair, a full beard, and massive muscles covered with metal sleeves. "What're you trying to do, kill me?" he snapped.

The man reacted differently than Harry expected, his face paling and his eyes widening. "Never!" he exclaimed, shaking his head quickly.

Harry glowered at him for a moment before turning to look at the others. He instantly recognized Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man; the man was a genius, though in engineering and not physics. Next to him was a large man with ash-blonde hair, dressed in a red, white, and blue outfit. Harry recognized him as Captain America. The other three he did not recognize, though he thought that he recognized the archer from Loki's base.

Then there was Loki. The Trickster God was slumped back on the stone steps that ran along one side of the room, his face cut and bloody and his outfit torn. Harry narrowed his eyes as he glared at the man who had kidnapped him.

Suddenly the giant green monster began to morph, his skin twisting and lightening. Harry took a step back in shock and bumped into the bearded man who had tried to hug him. The man placed what was most likely supposed to be a supportive hand on his shoulder, but Harry shrugged off the overly-familiar touch and shot another glare at him over his shoulder. He did not miss the way that the man's face turned sad, but he ignored it.

In place of the green monster was now a man with dark brown curly hair and a tired expression. He groaned and cracked his neck slightly as he held up his pants, which were barely clinging to his hips. "That was quite the workout."

Tony Stark spoke up. "Glad to have you back, Bruce." Then he looked over at Harry and then to the man behind him. "So who's the kid, Thor?"

Thor, the God of Thunder. According to Loki, this man was his… father? Harry didn't see it. But then, he had not gotten a good look at his own appearance. He turned around and looked over the man. Blonde hair, check. Blue eyes, check. Nothing else of Thor's features did he remember seeing in his own.

"This is my son, Leif!" Thor boomed, and Harry could nearly feel the man beaming with delight.

Harry pulled his head down in irritation. "Stop calling me that!" he hissed up at the bearded man. "My name's _Harry_, not _Leif_."

Thor's face morphed from joy to hurt and then to confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Your mother named you Leif upon your birth."

"My mother?" Harry's eyebrow cranked up like a drawbridge. "Lily?"

Thor's brow drew together, the man not understanding. "Jane," he corrected. "Your mother is Jane Foster."

Harry's eyes widened. So not only did he have a completely different father, his mother was someone he had never met, either. In that case, how had he gotten to Lily and James Potter? Was this mysterious Jane Foster a witch?

"Uh, can we do this later? Right now we need to get Loki back to the Helicarrier," said the man with the bow and arrows.

Thor's face began serious again. "Of course," he said with a nod, placing a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry decided that it would be too much trouble to shrug off. "We shall talk more there."

* * *

Thor watched through the mortal spying devices as his son slept in the room that they had provided for him. All of his friends and he were on the flying ship that his friends called the Hellicarrier. He did not understand the name.

Leif—or Harry, as he had insisted on being called—had been taken back to the Helicarrier by the Man of Iron in one of his moving vehicles. Thor had offered to fly his son with Mjolnir, and he had rather hoped that the boy would take him up on the offer, but Lei—Harryhad looked at him as if he was insane.

When they had arrived he had been quick to find his son, and surprisingly the boy had struck up a conversation with Banner. Thor had not understood what they were talking about, but it reminded him of what Jane had spoken of. Later Banner had impressed upon him how clever the boy was, and Thor had been proud that his son had received Jane's brains. While Jane would not be quite as exceptional on Asgard, due to how advanced their society was, she would still be seen as quite clever.

The Son of Coul had looked into Jane Foster at Thor's request. Thor wanted to know what had happened to her after Harry had been taken. Loki had said that the mortals had wiped Jane's memories of Leif, and Thor realized what it meant; she did not know that she had a son. As far as she was concerned, Leif was a stranger.

Thor had been sad to discover that Jane was apparently in a relationship with a man named Richard Waters. He was from a location in Midgard called 'England', the same place that Thor's son was believed to have grown up in. While it pained him to know that Jane had moved on, he could not blame her—it had been a long time in a mortal life, and he would not hold it against her. He also did not wish to disrupt her life, tearing apart the home that she had built for herself.

Thor had been hoping to spend some time with his son after he had ceased talking to Banner, but the boy had admitted to being rather tired and so he had been directed to a room where he could sleep. Thor had been itching to follow and make sure that nothing happened—the last time he hadn't known where his son was the boy had been kidnapped—but he restrained himself. Contrary to popular belief, Thor was not stupid. He could clearly see that L—_Harry_ was avoiding him. As much as it hurt, Thor could not blame him. Harry had given them an abbreviation of his time with Loki and the man's explanation of who Thor was to Harry. Harry did not know his own father and would obviously take some time to get used to it.

Now, watching his son on the device that Stark had given him, he marveled at the wonder that was his son. Thor's own mother had occasionally told him about watching Loki and he sleep at night, and he hadn't understood the appeal until now. Seeing his son, his boy, in such a state of tranquility was mesmerizing. It also allowed Thor to see the distinct resemblance Harry had to himself, and it marveled him. It made his heart swell with pride, though at the same time he wished that he had been able to see his son grow through all the previous stages of his life.

"Still watching the kid?" asked Stark as he walked in. Thor tore his eyes away from the screen to look at the man. His hair was tousled and his eyelids were rather heavy; he had obviously been asleep. "Seriously, have you been doing that all night?"

Thor turned to the time-keeping device and blinked in shock. Indeed, he had been watching Harry sleep the entire night long. While time passed differently for Aesir, due to their immortality, it was still a long time to be doing one thing. "It appears so."

Stark snorted as he poured himself some of the hot black liquid from one of the machines lining the room. "Well you've got quite the 'devoted dad' thing going on. I wish that I had something like that; my dad got rid of me the first moment that he could."

Thor frowned at Stark's description of his father. Thor could not imagine sending his son away, and even Odin would not do something like that without just cause. Thor's own banishment had been a very light sentence; if he were a normal Aesir he would have been imprisoned or killed for his idiocy. "Why would your father do such a thing?"

Stark shrugged as he drank some of the liquid. Thor had tried it earlier and found it rather disgusting, and he could not understand how the others drank it. "My dad didn't want a kid. He was devoted to his own little mission, so once I was old enough he sent me off to schools in other countries so he wouldn't have to see me."

"That sounds unpleasant."

Stark snorted into his drink. "Unpleasant is one word for it. My father never told me that he loved me; he never even told me that he liked me. When he died I wasn't sure if I should feel happy or sad."

Thor stomach twisted violently at the thought of having to grow up like that. While Odin was not a very expressive man, he never withheld affection from his sons. He had tried his best to make them feel equal, never favoring one over the other. It was Thor's own fault that Loki had been overshadowed; his skills as a warrior had drawn far more attention than Loki's substantial magical skills. Loki had deserved far more credit than he got. Thor told himself that he would never skive on showering his son with affection, to make sure that he never felt as Stark did.

According to Loki his son had magic as well. Thor was not surprised; his mother, Frigga, was the most powerful sorceress after Loki, having been the one to teach him. Thor himself had some magical potential, though he did not exercise it like Loki did. He wondered if his son would want to continue learning magic, and if he would want to learn to fight from Thor as well.

Suddenly a noise from the device had Thor's eyes glued back to the device. Stark muttered something about Thor being 'baby-whipped', but Thor did not understand it.

He could see that Leif—_Harry_, he had to call him _Harry_—was waking from sleep. Much like Thor, he was a slow riser. Thor felt a surge of giddiness at yet another similarity between him and his son, and he wondered how many others there were.

"My son is awake," Thor informed the sleepy genius. "I will go see him now and make sure that he is alright."

"Don't over-step your boundaries!" Stark called after him. "Remember, he doesn't know you!"

Thor held onto that piece of advice, no matter how much it hurt. A son should be closest to his father, yet Thor was a stranger. No matter what it took, Thor swore to himself that he would change that.

* * *

**A/N: Woo! This story is building. What I have planned for this is very fun. Recently I have been focusing on this one more than the other two.**

**I hope that you liked Harry. According to one of my wonderful beta-readers he is like Sherlock from the BBC show Sherlock.**

**The thing with age is because of how the Asgardians/Aesir are described. They are said to live so long that it is nearly immortality, but 5,000 years doesn't seem like that long to me. It is long, sure, but nothing to get fascinated with. I pictured them living like 500 years for every human's 1. Like the average lifespan is 43,000 years to the humans' 86. But if it bugs lots of people then I'll change it, I guess. In the end it is more my personal opinion.**

**Yes, Jane is not coming in soon. She will, but not yet.**

**I love reviews. Tell me what you think of Harry, Thor, Loki, and all the little scenes. Or what you think of his appearance or my explanation.**


	4. Chapter 4

Harry made a face as Thor dropped into the seat across from him while he ate. Not only did he have to eat this disgusting sugary breakfast food called a 'Poptart' due to there being no other healthy choices, but he also now had to deal with his so-called birthfather, who acted more like an excited puppy than a millennia-old near-deity. Thor had basically followed Harry everywhere, constantly trying to talk to him. Dear god (literally in this case), the man was needy.

"Do you enjoy the tarts of popping, L—Harry?" The exuberant Thunder God asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. The man obviously had a hard time remembering to call him Harry and not Leif. Apparently Leif was his birth-name, and by Asgardian custom his surname was Thorson. He pitied people whose fathers had very long names, like Jonathan or Anthony. "It's okay I guess, but too sugary for my tastes."

Thor's happy grin dimmed ever-so-slightly. No doubt the man was hoping for some similarity between them to latch onto. While Harry wasn't a very emotionally receptive or expressive person by nature, Thor seemed to be the exact opposite; all happy and loving and kind. All the similarity that Harry could see was in appearance.

After giving himself a good half-hour long inspection in a full-length mirror, he would admit that he did look like his—gag—father. While Thor did not impress him unduly, he had to admit that the man was physically appealing, and Harry was glad to have inherited the man's good qualities. He enjoyed the broad shoulders and stronger body type; while he wasn't the muscle-y sort, being unhealthily skinny was not an enjoyable feature. He also enjoyed having tamable hair, and being blonde was an interesting change. Even Harry's _voice_ had changed, growing a touch deeper. Then there were the features that weren't Thor's—he was glad not to get the Thunder God's slightly squinty eyes or large nose. He did miss the vibrant green eyes slightly, though not the glasses, and wondered if he could spell them back to that color. Perhaps spell his hair black as well, because he did not want the 'ditzy blonde' stereotype. The only downside was that his famous scar did not disappear.

"What do you want, Thor?" he finally asked as the man sat silently for a minute or two longer, simply staring at Harry. The man had taken to doing that a lot recently. One time Harry had given the man 'the finger' but he hadn't noticed, though he probably wouldn't have understood anyway. It was like Harry fascinated Thor to the point that his brain shut down when he was looking at him.

"Oh!" Thor sat up a tad straighter and Harry absently noted how ridiculously tall the man was. The guy was at least 6'6", and Harry wondered if he would get that tall. Not that buff, assuredly, because he did not care about such things, but the height was a possibility. "Stark and Banner have completed building the Tesseract containment device. Now that it is complete, my brother and I will return to Asgard." He paused for a moment and looked at Harry, his gaze softening. Harry wanted to retch at how _loving_ the man looked, with his big sad blue eyes, long blonde hair, and soft expression. The beard and muscles wider than Harry's waist probably should have made him look fiercer, but instead it only made him look like a teddy bear. "You may call me 'Father', you know."

How cute, he was trying to 'bond' with Harry. Well that was not happening. "So you're taking Loki back to Asgard?" he asked, ignoring the last comment. "Will I go back to my… to the Dursleys, then?"

Thor shook his head quickly. "No, son." Harry felt a vein in his forehead twitch. "You will be returning to Asgard with me, of course!" He smiled widely and placed a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder in what was most likely supposed to be 'fatherly affection'. It had no more effect this time than before.

Harry stood from the table, letting Thor's hand slide from his shoulder. "You're taking me to Asgard?" That was interesting. Harry could only dream of the things that he could learn there; advanced magic, science beyond anything that humans could perceive, and everything in-between. While it irritated him that Thor thought he could just drag Harry away, Harry was more of an 'ends justify the means' type of person. "When do we go?"

Thor smiled again. Seriously, was this man ever _un_happy? "Soon, Harry. We merely have to retrieve Loki from his prison cage and travel to a place where no mortals will see us leaving."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Alright then." He tossed the unfinished sugary snack into a nearby waste bin. "I'll be saying goodbye to Dr. Banner. Meet you there."

He turned and walked away, almost feeling the disappointment radiating from the man who wanted to be his father. Unfortunately for Thor, Harry had stopped being so attached a long time ago.

* * *

Travelling through space was unpleasant, Harry decided, and even more so when you had been turned into pure energy and were moving faster than the speed of light. Luckily it did not last long; after what felt like about thirty seconds Harry, Thor, and Loki re-materialized on solid ground. The moment that they did Harry pulled away from Thor, who had been hugging him closely when they disappeared. The man released his grip on Harry, albeit quite reluctantly.

The first thing that Harry noticed was that they were standing on a bridge of some sorts. It was incredible looking; it appeared to be glass, but all the colors of the rainbow shot down it and made it look like a river of light. Harry followed it with his eyes to the point where it abruptly cut off, the shattered end jutting out into what looked like deep space. The second thing that Harry noticed was the man standing right at the end of the bridge and facing out into the stars. As if sensing them he turned around. Harry's eyes widened at the man's golden irises.

"Prince Thor and Prince Loki," he stated in a monotone voice. "You have returned successfully with the Tesseract." His gaze slid to Harry and narrowed slightly. "And you have brought a guest." He bowed at the waist, his head going almost down to his waistline. "Welcome to Asgard, Leif Thorson," he greeted.

Harry wasn't sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. Seriously, would _everyone_ here know him and call him that? He did rather like the different name—it was unique and fresh, and far more interesting than 'Harry'—but not when people just assumed that he wanted to be called that. "Uh, hi," he said slowly, waving a hand. "Who are you?"

The man straightened and looked down at Harry. Unlike when Snape did that, it did not seem insulting; the man merely appeared to be the type to stand straight and tall. "I am Heimdall, Guardian of Asgard and Keeper of the Bifrost."

Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He had read Norse Mythology once or twice in primary school, and apparently the Bifrost was the Asgardians' method of travelling to Earth. Seeing as how they were on a far-away planet with an advanced race, it was most likely an incredibly powerful artifact. "Wow." He glanced around. "Erm… where is the Bifrost?"

Loki made an annoyed sound from within the gag and Heimdall gave him a 'look'. "Loki damaged it and Thor destroyed it to save the lives of the Jotuns. However, now that the Tesseract has been returned I can fix the Bifrost. But first it must be presented to the All-Father."

Harry tuned the rest out as he looked at the stars filling the sky around them. He didn't recognize a single constellation; they must have been farther than any human telescope was able to see. The river underneath the bridge seemed to run off into space, and he wondered what happened to it.

Suddenly Thor interrupted his thoughts. "Come along, Harry. It is time for you to meet your grandfather." He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and pointed to the gates in the distance.

Harry wanted to smack the man, but Thor was so strong that it probably would not even faze him. The man was so touchy-feely, hugging Harry or putting an arm around him or even just sitting next to him. Harry figured that if he gave Thor a hug (not that he would) the man would faint from joy. So he just inched out of the muscular man's reach and followed the direction he had been pointing in.

* * *

Thor stood tall as he watched his father's face, having finished explaining exactly what had occurred on Midgard on his quest to retrieve the Tesseract. He had told his father all about Loki and the Tesseract, though he was leaving Harry until last.

"Very good, my son," congratulated Odin with a small smile. "You have made me proud. However, there is one thing that you left out." He looked over to the side, where Harry was standing and appeared to be inspecting the intricate designs on one of the columns, not bothering to listen to the story that he already knew. "Who is this boy you brought with you?"

Thor saw his mother's eyes widen as Harry turned after having heard himself be mentioned. Friggahadn't noticed Harry at first, intent on hearing Thor's story concentrating on him, but now she saw the boy and obviously noticed his resemblance to Thor at that age. "Father, do you remember the time when I was quite joyful, soon after my return from banishment?"

His father raised one eyebrow and Thor saw Harry do the same. "Yes, though that was followed by a time of great sadness. What does that have to do with the boy?"

Frigga spoke up, taking a few steps closer to Odin. "Do you not recognize him?" she asked her husband eagerly, glancing between Thor and Harry. "Do you not see who he looks like?"

Odin turned to look at the boy again and his visible eye widened in utter shock as he came to the same realization as his wife. "How is this possible?" He breathed, turning to look at Thor. "How?"

"I do not know, Father," admitted Thor. "However, Heimdall told me of his existence the moment Jane Foster found out that she was expecting. Somehow she, a mortal woman, was able to bear an Asgardian child. My son, Leif." He shot a smile at the boy, but Harry did not notice; he was watching Odin and Frigga with an intense expression. "But he was taken soon after his birth." Thor continued, closing his eyes in remembered pain that lived on. "Heimdall could not see him. According to Loki, mortals with magical gifts took him and hid him from Heimdall's sight."

Odin's gaze shot to Loki, who was still bound and gagged off to the side opposite Harry. "Is this true?" he demanded of his estranged son. Loki scowled and rolled his eyes, but gave a nod. "Why?" asked the All-Father.

"For power," Harry piped in, taking a few steps closer and standing next to Thor. Thor could see his mother's lips curving into a smile as she looked between them, and Thor knew that she found the resemblance cute. "I can do magic, like Loki; I am guessing that the wizards wanted a weapon for their little war."

Odin narrowed his eye. "War? With whom?"

"A self-proclaimed Dark Lord named Voldemort. He was said to be the most powerful man to ever live, and he learned so much Dark Magic that it twisted his appearance and turned him into a demon-like creature. He killed hundreds of magical humans; anyone who he found 'unworthy' of magic."

"What happened to this 'Dark Lord'?" Odin asked, watching Harry intently as he waited for the answer. Thor felt a swell of pride at how his son was handling himself in front of the All-Father; some men would crumble in front of him, but his son stood firm.

"He came after me," Harry said with a shrug. "He came after my… adoptive family and me one night when I was just over a year old. I don't know why. He killed both my adoptive parents. He tried to kill me as well, with a magic spell that kills instantly, but failed, and his body was destroyed in the process."

Thor tightened his grasp on Mjolnir at the thought. If only he had been there, as he should have been, he could have been the one to protect his son from the monster that tried to kill him.

"Just his body?" asked Odin.

Harry nodded an affirmative as he reached up and brushed back his bangs, revealing a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Thor paled as he saw it. He could imagine it now—his son as a tiny baby, with a monster standing over him and pouring Dark Magic onto him, the baby crying and screaming with no one to help him or save him—

"This is where the Killing Curse struck," the boy continued. "Everyone thought that Voldemort was dead, but I saw him again, last year. He was like a spirit, possessing one of the teachers in my school to steal a magical stone that would give him back his body."

Odin stared at Harry for a moment in silence. "What does this stone do?" he finally asked.

"It can turn any metal into pure gold, and it produces a substance called the Elixir of Life, which would extend a person's lifespan, keeping them nearly immortal as long as they drank it."

Odin let out an angry hiss through his teeth. "Immortality," he spat. "Always mortals crave immortality, not understanding what they aspire to reach. Only extremely Dark Magic can grant true immortality, and always at a hefty price. This 'Voldemort' is obviously not dead, and an abomination who threatens all of the realms. He must be destroyed. I will have Heimdall search for him." He looked to Frigga. "Take…" Here he paused and glanced at Thor, then Harry. "Take Thor and his son Leif to the Healing Chambers and make sure that there is no Dark Magic affecting him. I will speak to Loki alone."

Frigga nodded at him seriously before beckoning Thor and Harry over to her. Thor did not miss the happy smile that she sent Harry's way, and he remembered how much his mother wanted grandchildren. His mother would want to spoil Harry rotten.

Thor cast a glance back at his brother. While he did not approve of Loki's actions in the past few days, in a way he was indebted to his brother for reuniting him with L—_Harry_ and he could not wish him true ill. He hoped in his heart that his father and Loki could come to a mutual understanding, though he deemed the possibility slim.

Thor walked behind Frigga and Harry the entire path to the Healing Wing, listening to his mother's many questions for Harry and his simple and often one-word responses. Thor was rather saddened at how isolated Harry seemed to be from everyone. He had hoped that his son would grow to be more open, and perhaps he would, but for now Thor had to watch him pull away from everyone. Thor wanted nothing more than to grab the boy in a tight hug and proclaim how much the boy meant to him, but based on the previous reactions that would be met with anger, not joy. He needed to find some way to connect with his son, to show the boy his love, and he promised himself that he would not stop until he did.

When they reached the Healing Wing Harry was immediately taken to be inspected by the Head Matron. Children were regarded with reverence in Asgard. Children were the most precious things that they had, seeing as how their childhoods were infinitesimal compared to their adult lives, and Harry would be all the more valued because he was a member of the Royal Family. Also he was currently the youngest person in Asgard; Asgardians lived about five-hundred years for every year of a human's life, and so children were born quite rarely. Very few Aesir had more than two children, keeping the population at a relatively unwavering size. The oldest current living Asgardian was about 61,000 years old. Thor could barely fathom such a length of time; he was not even five-thousand years old yet. Most still saw him as a boy, though his feats were that of a man, and so they had been shocked when he had been announced to take the throne. Odin had conceived Thor rather late in his life, considering that the king was nearly forty millennia old.

Thor watched as Harry lay down on the examination table and how magical scans began to run over him. He had never learned much about magic, seeing as it was largely a skill that woman learned in Asgard, so he did not understand the colorful lines. However, one did worry him. It was a dark red, nearly black, line that emerged from Harry's scar and enveloped his body. "What is that?" he asked, pointing to the image.

The Head Matron narrowed her eyes as they watched the dark entity lash out at her magic. "I do not know, but I do not like it. That is obviously Dark Magic, and it is parasitic in nature. It seems to be leeching off of your son."

Thor reached for Mjolnir at his belt, though he realized that he could not fight that sort of magic with force. "Can it be stopped?"

"That is what I hope to do now," said the Matron. She called over Thor's mother. As the most powerful sorceress in Asgard, as well as the most well-versed in Healing Magic, Frigga was the best candidate to help the Matron. Together they laid hands on Harry and their hands began to glow with magic.

A horrific and otherworldly shrieking sound suddenly filled the air, seeming to originate from the entity. All across the Healing Bay healers collapsed, clutching their ears in pain. However, it was not that sound which hurt Thor; it was the sound of his son screaming in what was obviously excruciating pain. The sound tore at his heart as he fought to get close to the boy, the shrieking tearing at his eardrums, crippling him the same as the healers.

The noise cut off abruptly, the following silence shocking Thor. He rushed to his son's bedside and saw that Harry was now unconscious. He raised his eyes to the Head Matron and his mother, who both looked exhausted yet triumphant. Held in his mother's hands and encased in a sphere of blue light was a shadowy _thing_. It lashed out at the globe like living liquid, and it reminded Thor of the illustrations he had seen in his mother's storybooks of the Dark Elves' Aether. "What… what is that?" he gasped out, holding Harry's hand in a clamp-like grip, momentarily forgetting to be gentle.

"This is worse than I feared," answered his mother, watching the oozing mass with detest and worry. "I must bring this to your father, because if it is what I believe it to be, then this 'Dark Lord' may be more dangerous than we have previously assumed." With a quick thankful bow to the Matron she ran out. Thor was astonished; his mother _never_ rushed, and she certainly never ran.

The Matron was breathing heavily, obviously quite winded. She watched as the other healers rose, shaking their heads and massaging the area around their ears. "I do not know what that was," she confessed to Thor. "However, I do know that it was the most evil thing that I have ever felt."

He gripped his son's hand a bit tighter still, wondering what that horrible entity was and what it had done to his most precious boy. "Is he alright, Matron?"

Straightening her rumpled dress and hair the woman re-started the scans. "Just a moment," she said. "It is analyzing his body. You said that his mother was a mortal, yes?"

Thor nodded, thinking back to Jane and their short time together. They had gotten a tad carried away that night on the roof; he had kissed her, and she had returned it, causing them to escalate until they reached the point of no return. "Yes, she is."

Several colored symbols appeared in sequence as the scan produced a result. Thor did not understand them, but he did not need to as the Matron explained them to him. "This is giving a complete diagnostic of him. I am pleased to tell you that he is completely healthy, and based on his energy readings the removal of that… of that leech is already helping him. He is a touch under the average weight for a boy his age, something that your mother will no doubt fix." Thor had to agree; Frigga did love to get boys to eat.

"He takes after you a lot, though. In fact, he seems to be a normal Aesir in every way; surprising considering that he should not even have been able to be conceived. I am rather curious about how he can even exist. His height is slightly above average, his body density is increasing, like a normal Aesir's should at his age. His body's natural healing is _remarkably_ advanced, and… oh dear." Her eyes widened as she leaned closer to the symbols. "Oh no!" she breathed in horror.

Thor felt his anxiety mounting as her expression cycled through horror, then confusion, then understanding, then, worst of all, pity. "What? What is wrong?"

"Thor," she began, turning to look at him. "When was your son conceived?"

"During my banishment," he answered, not understanding the question.

The Head Matron shuddered slightly and closed her eyes. "Now I understand how he was conceived. Thor, your father stripped you of your powers. You are still an Asgardian by blood, and nothing can change that, but your gifts were out of your control. You were mortal, like the woman who is this boy's mother." She took a deep breath. "Thor… your son may have inherited your Asgardian blood and gifts, but he is mortal as well."

* * *

**A/N: Let's get something straight here, people. I do not write for you. I do not write for my friends (I don't have any). I don't write for experience, or practice, or anything else. I write because I enjoy it and because I have to get the damn ideas out of my head. I don't care if it isn't realistic, or if it is rushed, and I know both are true. If you don't like it, stop reading. I am not trying to win an award from the New York Times.**

**Yes Harry is annoying, but he is not an expressive person, and he lost most empathy over his childhood years. He doesn't dislike Thor, however, he finds the man's attitude rather oppressive and annoying.**

**I don't know how long it will be until I update anything again, because I am busy and my Writer's Motivation is dried up from 10,000 words I wrote two weeks ago. I will be going on a week-long trip that starts in exactly one week, and there is a good chance that I will write a lot then.**


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